


STILL

by imtheonekeepingyoualive (frerardestiel)



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Derek and Stiles are married, Established Relationship, F/M, Future Fic, I'm a sucker for happy endings, M/M, Mpreg, Not Really Canon Compliant, Pregnant Stiles, i mean everything is where it should be but i tweaked other things, just like jeff does
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-10
Updated: 2014-08-10
Packaged: 2018-02-11 18:47:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,642
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2079117
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/frerardestiel/pseuds/imtheonekeepingyoualive
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I never really understood why you and Derek aren't together anymore, though." Scott says.</p><p>***</p><p>Or the one where Stiles and Derek are dumb idiots and everyone just wants to counsel them on their marriage.</p>
            </blockquote>





	STILL

**Author's Note:**

> So, I started working on this a few months ago then I stopped for a while because I wasn't sure if I really wanted to finish it, seeing this is shamelessly written for my own pleasure (pregnant!Stiles and angst? yup! sign me up!) but then I kept going back to it and I really missed it, so. 
> 
> Endless thanks to my awesome beta and friend @Charlie_Bb for kicking my ass and telling me my story was worth it. Every remaining mistake is my own fault.
> 
> It's my first real story (I'm nervous and excited about this) so I hope you all enjoy this story half as much as I loved writing it!
> 
> (Also, come say hi on tumblr! You can find me at imtheonekeepingyoualive.tumblr.com, I LOVE talking to people and making new friends!)

 

 

_Text to: SourHubby 17.23_

  _Hey Derek remember to buy milk. AND DIAPERS! It's an emergency! The Lady sends her regards and says she misses you. Love you see you later <3_ 

§§§

 "I never really understood why you and Derek aren't together anymore, though." Scott says, bouncing a giggling Heather on his knee.

Stiles sighs and scratches his face, frustrated.

"You know why," Stiles replies dryly.

 He hates talking about how his marriage turned sour and failed. It's still an open wound and he thinks it'll never change. He still loves Derek, probably he'll love him for the rest of his pathetic life, they had a daughter together and they were happy. Until they weren't anymore. It just. Happened.

"Not really," Scott continues, kissing Heather's cheek and making her giggle again. Heather is in love with her uncle and Stiles can't help his fond grin watching his little girl grab Scott's face and look up at him with big green eyes. Scott is also smitten, so everything is okay and it's kinda disgusting how cute the two are when they are together. "Literally all I know is that you two are both dumb and stupid. Not that it's any news but really. It's been seven months and nothing changed, you _are_ still in love with him, aren't you."

Why Scott feels the need to always ask stupid and intrusive questions (without inflection, too, like he already knows the answer) Stiles never knows. But someone needs to mind their own business, even if that somebody is his brother slash best friend.

Stiles pointedly ignores Scott and goes back to folding the pile of clothes that's threatening to swallow them all if Stiles doesn't stop procrastinating and gets to work.

"Derek is still in love with you, too, you know?"

Stiles sighs again.

"Listen Scotty, as much as I appreciate your concern, I don't want to talk about this. Not now, not ever."

His chest aches every time he talks or thinks about Derek. Or watches Heather and her big green Hale eyes. She looks so much like Derek, it's always like a punch in the face. She's Stiles in everything else, hyperactive, sarcastic - even for a three year old, precocious just like her dad - and with a scary love for frogs.

 Stiles doesn't know where she gets that, but she has at least six shirts with frogs printed on them, three frog plushes and a blanket her grandpa gave her. And she likes to go looking for frogs when they're out together, always gets excited when she spots one, jumping and squealing like a puppy.

 She has Stiles' brown thick and wavy hair, a little lighter like- like _Cora's_ . She _is_ both a Stilinski and a Hale, and the resemblance to Derek is in her pale eyes (green, turquoise, hazel), the shape of her lips, the way she sometimes sniffs at things, she growls when she's grumpy and tired, she's super affectionate with both Stiles and Derek, in a completely different way than when she's with others. She touches Stiles when she needs to be grounded, when she's scared she puts her nose between his neck and shoulder and just stays there. She's a werewolf like Derek, and Stiles is happy, because even if Derek never would have admitted it, it's almost like Heather being a werewolf makes her a little more his. Derek deserves a family, and Heather is his just as much as she's Stiles'.

Scott has the decency to look mildly cowed, probably because Stiles sounds and smells pissed. Talking about his past marriage never leads to anything good.

"I'm sorry," Scott murmurs a while later, when Stiles is putting the folded clothes in a basket so he can bring them upstairs when Scott leaves.

"I know, buddy. Me too"

§§§

  _Text to: Scott, Lydia 14.38_

  _If Derek doesn't stop being so obtuse i'm going to punch a hole through HIS FACE_

  _Text from: Lydia 14.39_

  _I can feel the sexual tension from here_

  _Text to: Lydia 14.39_

  _DONT EVEN SAY IT_

  _Text to Scott, Lydia 14.40_

  _IM GONNA DIE HES SO AWFUL I NEED TO GET LAID ASAP_

  _Text from: Scott 14. 47_

  _didnt you and malia have sex last time????_

  _Text to: Scott 15. 12_

  _Yeah but_

  _Text to: Scott 15.12_

  _Wasnt really what we wanted you know i actually have gross feelings for broody mcbrooder here_

  _Text from: Scott 15. 20_

  _why don't you just try and talk to him_

  _Text to: Scott 15. 23_

  _SCOTT I LOVE YOU BUT STOP_

 

“ _Are you even listening to what I'm saying?”_

  _Stiles startles so hard his phone slips through his fingers and clatters to the floor. He gasps because he so doesn't have enough money to buy another one if he broke it. He grabs it and looks at it from every possible angle and, apart from a scratch on the right side of the case, it's intact._

  _Derek is watching him, unimpressed. Stiles coughs._

 “ _Not really,” he says, putting his phone away._

 “ _Listen, if you don't want to talk about this plan, you can just go,” Derek starts putting away the books he and Stiles were reading (or, Derek was actually reading and Stiles was dying because books + Derek, not good for his psyche) and Stiles reaches out._

 “ _No, wait!” he jumps up and gets closer to the table, a hand on Derek's wrist to stop him. “I'm sorry, okay, just...” he murmurs, eyes downcast and heart literally going berserk in his chest because Derek's wrist is strong and big in his hand, but his skin is soft and he doesn't know how to process this information now that he's constantly hyper aware of everything that concerns Derek Hale._

  _Derek doesn't say anything, but he doesn't jerk out of his grip like he would've done a year ago. Stiles raises his eyes and looks at him, wide eyes and mouth open. Derek is looking right back at him, with his pale eyes and dark lashes and offensive good looking face. Stiles can't even breathe with Derek so close, can feel is warmth and see the way his eyes have actually three different mixed colors in them._

 “ _I...” he mumbles, looking down at Derek's lips and then frowns, because his mind is all foggy and everything is just Derek._

  _And then_ Derek is kissing him _._

  _Lips on lips and chest to chest, Stiles gasps against Derek's mouth and his fingers clench around Derek's wrist._

  _He's so shocked he's not even kissing back. He's just staying there with large eyes and a gaping mouth, shaky and blushing. Stiles makes a noise when Derek stops breathing and goes absolutely still, before he slowly draws back, looking at Stiles with a horrified expression._

 “ _Uh,” Stiles tries to say, but before he can even get his brain back to work, Derek is already turning around and running out of the room._

  _Stiles stays there for a long time, trying to understand what just happened. He's like 92% sure Derek kissed him and he didn't kiss back. He's going to kill himself as soon as his limbs cooperate._

  _When he looks around for his backpack and sweater, in a daze, he finds out Derek actually ran_ out of the house _._

  _He huffs._

 “ _It's_ your _house, absolute drama queen!” he shouts, pretty sure Derek is going to hear him no matter where he is. “I'll call you later, and you're going to answer, or I'm gonna tell my Dad what happened!”_

§§§

 "Papaaa!" Heather screams and runs into Derek's arms, who crouches down and grabs her.

 "Hey," Derek murmurs, kissing delicately Heather on the side of her head. Stiles feels his heart clench and smiles, even if it hurts.

 Derek is an amazing father, kind and dedicated. He loves his kid a lot and Heather loves him just as much. When they're together, they're two wolves, they don't need words to communicate - they sniff each other, growl playfully, run and chase each other, shine their blue and yellow eyes and Heather laughs and almost pisses herself in joy when Derek plays with her.

 They have a connection that Stiles never could understand and, sometimes, it makes him jealous, because his baby is a werewolf and he isn't.

 He can't hear her heartbeat from the other room, smell her emotions, when she's angry or sad he knows it because she cries and throws tantrums, but Derek can sniff what's wrong and then he just growls or puts his nose in her hair and everything is good again and that sometimes makes him feel left out. He has Heather in so many ways, but he will never be able to be like them.

Derek looks at him and nods, while Heather puts her nose into his chest and growls. She misses Derek every time they're not together, and when she's at Derek's house, she misses Stiles and gets angry. Nobody wins and everybody goes home grumpy and irritated.

"Hi," Stiles responds, cutting an apple in tiny parts so he can give it to Heather.

 She does this thing where when she sees food in front of her, she can't help but grab it and put it into her mouth and she doesn't care if it's one bite or an entire dish and both Stiles and Derek had at least seven heart attacks because she almost choked when they weren't paying enough attention. Since then they both learned to cut everything in minuscule pieces and feed them one by one to her so she can swallow before she puts another one in her mouth. And they always have to remind her to eat like a civilized person. To which she usually replies that she's a wolf and she doesn't need to eat apples, but Stiles can be pretty persuasive when he wants and Derek usually just sits there with a tiny smirk on his face.

"Everything all right?" Derek asks, and sits down at the table with Heather in his lap, still happily hiding her face into her Papa's chest and sniffing. This usually goes on for a while when they don't see each other for days.

"Yeah," Stiles says, putting the plate with the food in front of Derek. "I finished another chapter of my book, I feel oddly productive today. Scott was here, had lunch with us. Heather, baby, you want this apple?" he adds, when he sees his daughter doesn't seem to be interested in anything that isn't her father. "Papa will give it to you."

Derek brings the plate closer to them and grabs a piece.

"C'mon Heather, eat." And, not even surprisingly, Heather turns her head and opens her mouth so Derek can place the apple between her lips. She's not spoiled, not really, but Derek tends to do everything she wants. Stiles is waiting for when she'll be into her "I want a pony!" phase and Derek will crumble and buy her one even though they don't even know where to start with horses.

"How was the meeting with the Roberts pack?" Stiles asks, watching Derek feed their kid one little piece a time. It's stupidly endearing and Stiles loves it so much he hates it.

Derek makes a mmm sound and sighs. "It went okay. Huge pack, lots of kids and families. Was good."

Stiles knows Derek is not saying it reminded him of his own family. Derek likes being surrounded by kids since they had Heather. Makes him feel grounded, he told Stiles.

"That's good," Stiles smiles. "I'm glad."

"Yeah, Tanya said she will come here to talk to Scott."

Stiles nods and smiles at Heather when she bites Derek's fingers and he flashes his icy blue eyes at her.

"You can stay for dinner, if you'd like," he says putting his chin into his hands.

"Yeah, okay," Derek responds, softly, and Stiles stomps on his urge to sigh and cry.

§§§

_It's been a couple of weeks since he started feeling sick in the mornings and he's tired and grumpy, always aching in places he never even knew existed until now._

  _And Derek keeps looking at him weird and sniffing him. He so doesn't have the time for this werewolf crap._

 “ _What?” he growls, flopped over the couch of Derek's apartment. Stiles spends so much time there it's like he's actually living there, his things are_ everywhere _even if Derek tries to tidy up every time Stiles goes out with Scott and Isaac, or grocery shopping. He's not great at it, but Stiles feels always guilty about messing everything up again with his books and papers and mismatched dirty socks. Feels guilty until he takes off his clothes and pulls Derek into bed with him and they forget about the pizza boxes littering the living room floor._

  _Derek is still looking at him with a weird face, frown in place and actually scooting closer to Stiles to sniff him better. Stiles swats a hand at him, annoyed._

 “ _Cut it out.”_

 “ _You smell weird,” that's what Derek decides to say._

  _Stiles gasps._

 “ _I do not smell weird, what the fuck. It's probably this stupid bug that's making me puke everything I ingest. Ugh. I feel like shit. But I don't smell weird, go away.”_

  _He does. He can't even eat a Pop-Tart without feeling like his stomach is trying to crawl out of his mouth. His_ muscles _hurt. And he probably smells like vomit._

 “ _You do,” Derek says, “I can't remember where I smelled this before, but I'm sure I did. And it's not a bug, you don't smell ill.”_

 “ _Whatever, go get me something to eat, I'm starving.” Stiles motions Derek to go in the kitchen._

  _Derek sighs, but he goes. Stiles trained him well. He smirks._

  _He just lies there waiting, rubbing his stomach with his eyes closed. He and Derek didn't even spend a lot of time together intimately since he started feeling this shitty. He still daydreams about the last time_ _Derek fucked him so hard he came all over himself just from taking his cock. He remembers how Derek spent hours eating him out on the bed upstairs until Stiles was begging for more and then fingered him so thoroughly Stiles felt like he was going to spontaneously combust. Or go mad. Remembers how Derek whispered filthy words into his ear while he was thrusting in and out of Stiles' body, how his eyes looked almost black and his beard was glistening with saliva and lube from when he ate Stiles out before, how Stiles laughed and then gasped when Derek gave a particularly hard thrust that made his toes curl._

 “ _Stop smelling like sex,” Derek grumbles, and Stiles opens his eyes smirking. He sees Derek's handing a mug to him and he raises an eyebrow.”You're gonna make the whole room stink of hormones.”_

 “ _Don't even with me, you're just saying that because we can't fuck until I don't feel marginally better. You could give me a blowjob and see if that's what I need,” he says, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively and making Derek roll his eyes. “What's this?” asks then, grabbing the drink. “Thanks.”_

  _Derek grabs Stiles' legs and slides under them, putting them in his lap. Stiles tries to not jostle the mug in his hands with the movement and glares at Derek._

 “ _Chicken soup. Maybe you won't feel like shit if you drink that.”_

 “ _Oh,” Stiles says, surprised. “Thank you. Smells good,” takes a sip and promptly burns his tongue, but he immediately feels better, the warmth of the beverage settling right into his body. He pushes his toes into Derek's thigh and Derek caresses his ankles, tenderly. This is nice._

 

 

 

 

  _Three days later, Stiles is putting all his symptoms in the Google search bar and drinking chamomile tea to try and calm his stomach, when he almost sprays his laptop display with it when all the results end up being: pregnancy._

  _He gapes at the offending word for too long, cold seeping into his bones. He knows it can happen theoretically, if the male is receptive and has unprotected sex with another man, knows that he never bothered to find out if he was actually one of the lucky ones who can carry a baby inside their body for nine months and then give birth. Apparently, he is. If he really is pregnant._

 “ _Oh my God,” he whispers._

  _He looks down at his belly, the same flat stomach he's used to see everyday, and swallows. He's so close to freaking out so hard he's gonna be bald before he turns twenty four. Or, at least, have really white hair._

  _He flails while he reaches for his phone in the pocket of his jeans and ponders if he should call Derek, Scott or Lydia. Lydia would probably just tell him to never google symptoms if he doesn't want to find out he either has a tumor or another fatal illness, so he settles on calling Scott, who at least will be freaking out with him and actually be supportive. He loves Lydia, but she's not the best with emotional help. And he doesn't want to worry Derek if he really can't do anything else. Derek would run straight home and take him to the hospital wrapped up in a blanket burrito. Or, Stiles thinks glumly, maybe walk away and never look back._

 “ _Yo!” Scott answers cheerily._

 “ _Dude! SOS! I need help!” Stiles almost shouts into the receiver._

 “ _What? Why, what happened? Dude, you okay?” Scott, bless him, already sounds worried and on his way to find Stiles._

  _Stiles looks at the word_ pregnancy _on the display and sighs shakily. “I think I'm... Pregnant?” he stage-whispers, lips glued to the phone._

  _There's a few long seconds of heavy silence from the other side and then Scott all but shouts: “What?! Oh my God?!”_

 “ _Scott, help, go buy a pregnancy test right now, please.”_

 “ _Yes! Okay. Yes. I'm going right now, yes. Stay calm, Stiles, we'll figure it out, buddy. I'm with you.” Scott tells him, and Stiles can hear him move and stumble over his own shoes he always leaves around and never bothers to pick up until his Mom shouts at him that he is twenty three and she's not his housemaid._

 “ _I'm just going to. Lie down for a moment. I'm at Derek's.”_

  _He is going to have a heart attack if he doesn't stop freaking out right the fuck now. So he closes the lid of his laptop and slowly makes his way to Derek's bed. He thinks he probably he's in shock. A little._

 “ _Dude, don't pass out, okay?” Scott screams._

  _Stiles rolls his eyes, already feeling better now that he's horizontal and with a pillow under his head._

 “ _I'm pregnant, not dying.”_

 “ _Yeah, yeah, tell that to your baby when you're trying to push it out of your skinny body in a few months.”_

  _Stiles hates Scott._

 “ _Shut up and go buy me a test.” Stiles says, phone in front of his face so he can say it clearly in a loud voice._

  _Stiles hears Scott say, “I'll be there in ten!” before he hangs up and then throws the phone somewhere on the bed._

 

 

 

  _Twenty minutes later, Scott is barging in with a loud noise and calling for him._

 “ _Bedroom!” Stiles shouts._

  _Scott stomps on the stairs and Stiles can hear the sound of a plastic bag hitting various body parts and inanimate objects and Scott's frantic breathing. He's a werewolf and he never breaks a sweat even after three hours of Finstock's suicides and now it's like he can't even breathe properly just because Stiles told him he's probably pregnant with Derek Hale's child._

  _Stiles is feeling like himself again if he can think about pregnancies and babies and babies with Derek Hale's genetics without having an aneurysm. Oh man, babies with dark hair and pretty eyes and brooding eyebrows. Babies in leather jackets. Oh man, he's going to have an heart attack from cuteness._

 “ _Stiles, are you okay? It looks like you're gonna drop dead in the next three seconds!” Scott says and jumps into the room, all crooked jaw and big brown eyes. He looks manic._

 “ _I was thinking about babies in leather jackets,” he murmurs, making Scott stop and look at him funny._

 “ _Okay.”_

 “ _You bought it?” Stiles asks, sitting up and making a_ gimme _motion with his hands. Scott hands him the bag and Stiles peers inside, only to rise first one eyebrow then the other one when he sees Scott bought_ seven _pregnancy tests. “Scott?”_

  _Scott shrugs and looks sheepishly at his best friend, surrounded by seven different colorful boxes. “I freaked out?”_

 “ _I hope you don't expect me to pee on all of them,” he probably doesn't even have enough pee._

  _Scott sits down beside him and says, “just to be sure,” and Stiles sighs deeply. But he does get up and eventually pees on every stick._

  _They all turn positive._

§§§

 Stiles still has his wedding ring. He put it on his nightstand, between the lamp and the clock. It shines when it catches the light, gold and pretty, a simple band with a heavy meaning behind it. Every time Stiles looks at it, he remembers the good and the bad things. How his hands shook when they got married, how Derek looked at him when he slipped the ring on Stiles' finger. How he always stopped what he was doing and looked down at his left hand, a stupid grin on his face and his chest swelling with love for his husband.

 His _husband_. Derek Hale, his husband. Even now, after four years and a separation, he still can't wrap his mind around Derek Hale being an husband. The word sounds foreign and exciting to his own ears.

 For the first few months after the wedding, when Stiles was round with their baby, Derek always liked to kiss Stiles' hand, the finger adorned with the ring that he personally chose; liked to use his left hand when he fingered Stiles open, leaving Stiles breathless when the cold metal touched his skin; liked to link their hands together when they were alone and reading “what to expect when you're expecting” books in the tranquility of their home.

 Stiles remembers everything and he will always keep those nice memories in his heart, will always think about them when he feels alone and when he looks at Heather sleeping in his bed, in Derek's arms, with her head on Stiles' dad shoulder.

 Sometimes he thinks that he could've done something differently, maybe it's mostly his fault that everything went wrong, maybe he and Derek weren't ever going to last. He could've tried more. He could've be less angry.

 But for now, he's fine with the cuddles from his daughter, he likes tucking her close and letting her sleep on his chest, her little hand curled around his ear and his lips touching her forehead, thoughts of Derek always in the forefront if his mind, always with them, always making him hurt and feel breathless.

§§§

 “ _I'm going through a delicate phase, Derek. Mind what you say,” Stiles warns him, one pillow under his back and another between his thighs. His back is killing him, his feet are swollen and his clothes don't fit him anymore, and Derek is_ smirking at him _and rubbing his hand on his huge belly. He likes the feeling, but he's also grumpy because he knows that he's going to look like a beached whale by the time he's nine months pregnant. He hates this pregnancy thing._

 “ _I was thinking,” Derek says, and Stiles feigns shock and gasps “oh no!” making him roll his eyes, “shut up,” he continues, “I was thinking that you should marry me.”_

  _Stiles stops breathing and looks at Derek with wide eyes and gaping unattractively. He's pretty sure he didn't hear right._

 “ _What?” he mumbles, unsure._

  _Derek is still smirking at him, but now he's softer, his pale eyes almost blinding in the light that's coming in through the open windows. “Want to marry me?”_

 “ _Are you- For real?” Stiles asks, because he's so gonna say yes but he never thought Derek was going to ask him to marry him. Derek and marriage don't even fit into the same sentence. Or, at least, they didn't._

  _Until now._

 “ _Yes, Stiles, for real.” Derek says exasperated and fond._

  _Oh God, Derek is_ fond _of him. It never gets old._

  _Stiles laughs, excited and happy, and he nods. “Yes, yes, yes!” he throws his arms around Derek's neck and squeezes him, making him laugh, too._

  _Derek kisses and bites his throat and Stiles hums._

 “ _Celebratory sex!” he shouts and Derek huffs._

§§§

 "I heard Derek is back," his dad says when they're together for breakfast the following Sunday.

Heather is particularly snarly this morning, still pissed off because Derek didn't spend the night with them and she misses him, so Stiles is having problems keeping her still, has to put her in his lap and kiss her hair, murmur things in her ear. It takes a lot out of them both and makes everybody miserable.

"Yeah," Stiles finally can reply, "he came to see Heather all week and he has to go away again at the end of the month, and she knows. That's why she's so angry."

The Sheriff nods, getting started on a helping of pancakes, and chews thoughtfully. "You aren't angry at him, too?"

Stiles rolls his eyes. Everybody needs to mind their own business.

"Dad, no," he warns, with a steely glare. He's literally so tired of everybody trying to help him.

"I'm just asking."

"Well, don't."

His dad bites into a huge sausage (Stiles shivers and grumbles something about how Sundays should be illegal) and ignores his son's ruined mood.

Now both Heather and him are grumpy and just want to go home.

"I know that you think I don't know what happened, but- stop looking at me like that Stiles, I'm just saying - but, I just want you to know that whatever it is, you can solve it together. I promised to myself to never interfere with your personal life, but you're my son, Stiles, and I hate seeing you and Heather like this. You're both looking like crap and always angry. You deserve a happy life just as much as my granddaughter does," his dad is wearing his worried parent face and Stiles hates it. “It's been, what, six months? Seven? And what changed? You and Derek live in two different places and Heather is miserable because when she's with only one of her parents she misses the other, and when you're both in the same place, everything is so uncomfortable and heavy she always ends up crying. _I_ still remember all the ruined dinners I endured just because I love my granddaughter more than I love red meat. That chocolate stain you put on my new couch from when you threw dessert at your husband's face is still there to mock me when I'm falling asleep watching re-runs of Law  & Order and reminds me that my son is twenty seven and with a _seemingly_ failed marriage behind him.”

Stiles makes an annoyed high pitched noise and huffs.

"Do you think I didn't try to make it work? That I just wanted to leave my husband, my house, my life?" his dad is looking at him with a sad face, but he doesn't say anything and Stiles is done. He just wants to eat so he can go. “I'd do _anything_ to go back to the start, when we were happy together. Anything, dad. For Heather, for me. I miss Derek, but I'm not gonna force a relationship on him, on me, if it's just not gonna work. Now, I wanna eat.”

 Heather fusses and makes the same whine she always does when she's going to cry, so he shushes her and kisses her entire face, shows her a tiny piece of pancake, asks her if she wants it, and she opens her mouth and looks at him with big wet eyes, but she doesn't cry. Thank God for small mercies.

His dad doesn't approach the subject of his son's love life again, thankfully, and they all eat in silence and moodily.

§§§

  _They're nestled together on the couch, Heather in Derek's lap while he's lazily feeding her. He looks at her like she's the eighth wonder of the world, and Stiles can't help but do the same. She's so perfect, with her upturned nose and dark lashes that frame big blue eyes._

 “ _Scott asked me to go meet a pack in Nevada,” Derek murmurs, trying not to disturb their baby between them. She's still getting used to sudden noises, her werewolf ears too delicate, so they always whisper around her. “I might go, see what happens.”_

  _Stiles nods and pets Heather's black hair. “It could be good, see if they want to be allies.”_

 “ _Yeah,” Derek says, pecking Stiles on the lips twice. “I don't wanna leave you just now, though. We just had her.”_

  _Stiles hums and drags the tip of his nose through Derek's beard, laughing softly because it tickles._

 “ _Don't go now, then,” he says and opens his mouth when Derek kisses him._

§§§

 The next time someone tries to counsel him on his marriage, is when he's grocery shopping before he needs to go pick up Heather at Derek's and Chris' house.

He's pushing the cart around lazily and reading the label on a huge box of cereals when somebody calls his name and he blinks up at Mrs. Jenkins smiley face.

"Uh," he mumbles, "good evening Mrs. Jenkins."

"Stiles, my boy, how are you? And your cute girl and husband?"

Stiles refrains himself from rolling his eyes heavenward and sigh the sigh of the ever suffering. Like Mrs. Jenkins (and the entire town) doesn't know he and Derek aren't together anymore.

"Heather is great, she's at Derek's now," he says, in a way to let her know that his marriage isn't a marriage anymore.

"Oh, dear, I always see your tall handsome man around, but I can never stop him and say hi."

Probably because Derek knows it and runs away, the asshole, he always leaves Stiles with the uncomfortable encounters. Sometimes he'd like a few superpowers, too. So he could avoid discussing everything with everyone.

"Yeah, well," he murmurs, trying to think how he can turn around and run, too. "He's asocial."

Mrs. Jenkins laughs and Stiles fumbles with the box of cereals in his hands.

"I hope you get your problems sorted, honey. Marriage isn't easy, you just have to work on it. It's a full time job."

Stiles nods and throws the cereals in the cart without looking, then looks at his wrist and exclaims "Look at the time!" in a loud voice, before he excuses himself and skids away, flailing and mumbling to himself about small towns and gossip.

§§§

  _Heather is insufferable tonight. Stiles fought her just get her into the bathtub, her screams piercing and horrible. Then he had to wrestle her into her pajama and she doesn't want to stay in bed. Everyt ime he puts her under the covers, she wriggles out and runs away. She also clawed at him with surprisingly sharp nails._

 “ _Papaaa,” she cries, her pretty face red and wet with tears. “Papaaaaa.”_

 “ _I know, baby, I miss Papa, too,” he says to her, pushes her hair off her flushed face. “He's coming back, soon, I promise.”_

  _But she isn't even listening to him, she keeps crying and clawing at him, clinging to him when he just as much as moves an inch. She's going to make herself sick, if she goes on like this. Sometimes, when she gets really upset, she cries and cries until she vomits everything she ate and then cries even more because her tummy hurts. Stiles hates seeing her like this._

 “ _Come here, baby,” he whispers, grabbing her under her armpits and lifting her up. “Let's go to bed.”_

  _She squeezes him hard and he turns off the lights, closes the door behind them and walks into his and Derek's bedroom. She's going to sleep with him tonight, doesn't matter what everybody says about spoiling your kids, she feels lonely and_ he _also feels lonely. He misses his husband too, it's been two long weeks since he last saw him and phone calls don't even cut it._

  _He lets her curl up in his bed, under the thick covers, and leaves her crying into Derek's pillow while he goes to change into his sleepwear in the bathroom, the door left open so he can keep an eye on her._

  _When he gets back, she's calmed some but she's still hiccupping miserably. He pouts and goes to her immediately, sliding under the covers to hug her tight._

 “ _You wanna call Papa?” he asks her in a soft voice, kissing her hot cheek._

  _She sobs once more and then slowly nods, looking at him with wet eyes._

 “ _Okay,” Stiles says and then turns to grab his phone on the nightstand._

  _Derek answers immediately, gruff voice like he was already asleep, “Yeah?”_

 “ _Hey Derek, your daughter misses you and wants to talk to you. She had a huge meltdown just now and she's in bed with me. Hugging your pillow. It's literally the saddest thing I've ever seen.”_

  _Heather whimpers when she hears her Papa's voice, and Stiles comforts her with a hand on her back._

 “ _Here, talk to Papa,” he puts the phone against her ear and she howls pityingly when Derek starts talking to her. Stiles can't hear what he's saying to her, but his voice carries through the phone and sounds sweet, soft. Stiles misses him so much he could probably have a meltdown, too._

 “ _When you coming home, Papa?” Heather says and Stiles pouts again. She sounds fucking miserable._

  _Derek's saying something and she nods, like he could see her, and then nods again._

 “ _Love you, Papa. Come home,” she says again and Stiles takes the phone back, when she seems to get settled. He puts the phone to his own ear and says, “yeah Papa, come home.”_

  _Derek hums and his voice is_ so good _, Stiles has it bad. “I'll be back the day after tomorrow, it's a long drive, but I should be home before dinner. I miss you, too. It's not the same being here without you both.”_

 “ _Next time, you're going somewhere closer to Beacon Hills, I don't wanna have to see our daughter go through a freaking meltdown again. It's not pretty. Especially when she makes herself sick.”_

 “ _I know, Stiles. I don't like it any more that you do.”_

  _Stiles huffs and sighs._

 “ _it's sucks, that's what it is.”_

 “ _I'll be back soon, we'll talk about it when I'm home.” Derek says, making Stiles feel more irritated than anything else._

 “ _I just know that we're not gonna talk about it at all, as usual.” Stiles retorts._

 “ _I don't wanna fight over the phone at three in the morning.”_

 “ _Whatever,” Stiles mumbles, “goodnight,” and hangs up._

§§§

 Scott is sitting on the floor between the couch and Heather, Isaac looking at them with a fond smile on his face from where he's perched on the sofa playing with Allison's hair. Kira is playing with Heather and her frog plushes, making her laugh delightedly. Stiles stopped thinking about their weird foursome years ago but, sometimes, he doesn't know how they even work. They look good together, comfortable with each other and happy, so he's happy too for them, but he's sure he could never do it. He had problems dealing with one person, one marriage, he can't even wrap his mind around being married to three different people.

 “Tanya from the Roberts pack called me yesterday,” Scott says, grabbing Heather from behind and making her squeal. “She said she's gonna come here to see how our pack works. She said Derek left a good impression on hers.”

 Stiles frowns but nods nonetheless. “That's good.”

 Scott keeps playing with Heather and Kira for a moment, then turns to look at Stiles. “She asked me about Derek.”

Stiles doesn't know what that means, but he has a bad feeling about where this is going. “And?”

“She wanted to know if he was single?” Scott says, like he isn't sure about it.

 Stiles feels his blood run cold and keeps looking at Scott for a long minute, before he focuses on his daughter, trying to remain calm and not freak out.

 “Okay,” he says after a while.

“I said Derek wasn't really single, so.”

 Stiles forces himself to shrug, like he's not touched by the idea of Derek with another woman. Like he wouldn't lose his fucking mind if only Derek looked at her, or anybody, for that matter.

 “We're not together, though.”

 “Please,” Scott says, in the same tone he uses when he's done with Stiles' shit. “You're not even _divorced_. Have you talked to your lawyer about that? You want to divorce?”

 Stiles glares at him, uncomfortable and pissed off. Everybody keeps nosing into his life and it's getting old. He doesn't know how long he's going to be cool about it before he just explodes.

 “I don't know, okay. I don't know,” he admits, scratching at his scalp. “He deserves to go on with his life, though. If he wants to start another relationship, I can't stop him.”

 Scott rolls his eyes so hard, Stiles is surprised he didn't strain anything. Isaac, from his place on the couch, snorts loudly and says, “Yeah, sure.”

 “What?” Stiles says, annoyed. “What.”

 “Derek is never gonna start another relationship, you-” he puts his hands over Heather's ears and then whispers, “dickbag!”

 Stiles glares and points a finger at him, “No swearing in front of my daughter!” and then, “How can you know, did he say something to you?”

 Kira looks up at him and sighs like Stiles is so dumb she doesn't even know how he can be real.

 “Derek is so in love with you, it's actually sickening. I still don't know why you aren't together anymore.”

 “Why do you keep asking me that!” he shouts. “It's been eight months!”

 “And still!” Allison says, in the same loud voice, “Literally nobody knows why you decided to stop trying.”

 “Mind your own business, guys!” he tells the room, angrily, “I'm so done with this bullshit.”

 “No swearing in front of your daughter!” Scott yelps and Heather jumps, taken aback from the sudden change in the room. She looks at them all with wide eyes and Stiles feels immediately like shit, because he promised himself he would've never let this thing affect his baby. He wants her to go back to laughing her ass off.

 He takes a deep breath and tries to calm himself.

 “Okay, sorry. But really, stop asking me questions about my marriage. Stop trying to make it better with some advice and words.”

 Nobody says anything for a while, the mood ruined and heavy between them. Even Heather looks glum.

 “Sorry buddy,” Scott murmurs and Stiles nods. Heather gets up and runs to him, climbing into his lap whining and clinging to him. He breathes shakily and hides his face into her hair.

§§§

  _Stiles sighs loudly and tries to steel himself, gives himself a pep talk in his head '_ you can do it _', '_ just go inside and stop deflecting _', '_ you know they know you're talking to yourself in the car _', but just the idea of facing Derek again so soon, is so difficult. The last time they talked, they ended up fighting over Heather and their relationship, shouting and crying, Stiles so angry he just stormed out of the house with Heather in his arms and Derek hurt and confused. When he got back, Derek was gone, left only a note saying he was spending the night at Chris'._

  _It's been two weeks and Stiles can still feel his ears ringing from when he closed the door of Jeep after himself and his daughter, the sound hard and definitive, like the end of his marriage. Like he had just cut everything off. He's nervous, and shivering and he doesn't want to see Derek, because he knows that as soon as he'll look at his stupid face, he'll want to run away again. He misses Derek like mad, but he also knows that he can't go on like this, they need to talk and straighten things out, for Heather, for themselves, because Stiles loves Derek like crazy and he feels empty without him in his life, but._

  _But Derek is never home. Almost never. Sure, when he is he is the best husband and father Stiles and Heather could ask for, but when he isn't with them, Derek really_ isn't _. He calls, he asks about Heather and how they're doing, tells them what he's doing and when he's coming back home, but he always leaves for weeks, long long weeks where Stiles is alone with a little girl and an empty house and empty bed. He misses his husband, misses waking up next to him and going to sleep with Derek's warmth and smell all around him; misses looking at him when they're drinking coffee in the morning or when they're watching tv; misses having sex with Derek, doesn't remember when was the last time they both really enjoyed it just for the sake of spending time together in each others arms, just because the thought of not being together seemed absurd. Stiles misses Derek even when he's with them, he realized. He misses the old Derek, the one who used to put his arms around him when he was pregnant and whisper stupid dumb things in his ear and made him laugh 'till he cried._

  _Grabbing Heather and walking inside Chris Argent's house, is like a nightmare coming true. He's sure he dreamed about this one night. Derek has been living with Chris since Stiles told him he wanted to take a pause from their marriage, and Derek didn't even really try to make Stiles change his mind about it, just accepted and took some of his clothes and his toothbrush and shoes and left. Said bye to Heather, kissed her and told her to listen to Daddy. She cried. Stiles cried and raged and called Scott as soon as Derek closed the door behind himself and left for real, this time._

  _(Sit was then Stiles knew Derek doesn't really love him anymore, not like he used to.)_

  _Allison is laughing with Scott and they're all wrapped up in each other, happy and giggling and Stiles can't even look at them, not just now, when he's heartbroken and hurt, not when Derek is a hole in his soul. He diverts his gaze and puts Heather down to take off her sweater and hat, brushes her hair off her face and looks up only when he hears footsteps approaching. Scott is grinning down at them and Heather is waving and grinning right back._

 “ _Hi!” Scott exclaims, Stiles nods and Heather jumps in her uncle's arms, so Stiles just leaves them to it, goes in the kitchen in search for something to drink, keep himself occupied while the others laugh and are happy around him._

  _Isaac is in the kitchen with Chris and Allison (who must have left Scott and Heather to sniff each other out when Stiles wasn't looking) rummaging through the cabinets, while Chris cooks and Allison puts food on various plates. There's enough to feed a regiment, but most of them are werewolves and they all eat like they've been starving for years, so Stiles is pretty sure there won't be any leftovers._

 “ _Hey, Stiles!” Isaac calls, nodding at him._

 “ _Hey, hi,” he says, helping himself from the fridge. He grabs a coke and takes a long swig, feeling the eyes of every single one of them on him, making him nervous as fuck. He knew it would've been difficult even being with them, not only because of Derek, but because they all know what happened between them, obviously since Derek is been living with Chris and since Stiles called Scott as soon as he stopped fighting with Derek, but. It's just weird. In a bad way. Feels scrutinized and he hates it so he keeps drinking even though he's not thirsty._

  _And then Derek steps in, silent and beautiful as always, and Stiles feels weak at the knees. He's always swept away, like the first time he saw Derek in the woods when he was sixteen and awkward, like it's been two weeks since he first_ saw _him and not two weeks since they almost broke up. Derek is always so tragically good looking, even when he's not shaven and he looks pale; his eyes are so green and he looks_ so good _in that blue sweater, that Stiles can't even breathe for a long second. He feels the place where Derek rests in his heart squeeze and then swell._

  _Derek stops and looks at him, looks at him for a long moment, like he too can't help but catalog every single detail, from Stiles' hair to his heartbeat, frantic and loud even to his own ears._

  _Stiles knows everybody must be looking at them, he's sure they're both making a show and he can't stop making his heart beat that fast, can't seem to breath; until Derek blinks and straightens, clears his throat and says, “Hi, Stiles,” cool as always and Stiles just. Opens his mouth a couple of times and then nods, says “Yeah, hi, hello,” so, figures._

  _After that, lunch is awkward and Heather sits on her Papa's lap and eats only what Derek gives her, much to Stiles' dismay. But he knows Heather misses Derek the most, even more now that they're not living together in the same house, so he lets her have this shitty excuse of a normal day. Stiles doesn't eat much, feels bad thinking that he basically is making Heather live without one parent just because he can't also make Derek live a life he doesn't seem to want anymore. Someone has to suffer and it's Heather._

  _Derek keeps glancing at him when he thinks Stiles isn't looking, but Stiles can feel his gaze like a brand, always could, nothing changed, but he can't seem to look Derek in the eyes, can't seem to sit still or eat in the same room as the pack and his (_ ex _?) husband. Stiles keep playing with his food, eyes downcast and uncharacteristically silent, smiles dimly only when somebody calls him and tires to engage him in conversation, only when Heather says something directly to him or makes one of her funny faces he loves so much. Derek and Heather talk and talk, she's so happy she's vibrating in Derek's arms and Derek is smiling and beautiful, green eyes and pink lips and everything feels literally like a punch in Stiles' face._

  _He can't take it anymore, so he excuses himself and leaves the table, the room, hides himself in the bathroom, locks the door, ignores Scott's worried calls and Kira who looked like she was gonna stand up too to just, he doesn't know, maybe help him. He just made a spectacle of himself but he doesn't care, he feels like he's gonna have a breakdown in Chris Argent's house, breath short like he's on the verge of a panic attack, vision blurred and eyes that sting but it's just_ so hard _being with Derek, in the same room, when he knows that their relationship is ruined, can't even pretend to eat lunch normally. He thought that maybe, just maybe, they could patch things up and Derek would come back, but now he's sure it's done._ They broke up _. With a bang and then quietly._

  _It's devastating thinking about it. Like. He spent most of his childhood thinking he was destined to marry Lydia Martin, was sure she was the one for him and totally had a ten year plan to get her but then he met Derek and everything changed. Stiles knows that what he feels for Derek is love, all the shit and cliché things you hear in songs and see in movies, he had it, he felt it. Still does now, after everything they went through. Knows that he actually spent the last ten years in love with the same person, so much he married him, had a baby with him, laughed and planned a whole life together until they were old and gray and then. Everything just faded like in a film, a cold fog that washed over their lives, colors blurry and distant. Seems like a bad joke, to be honest._

  _He splashes some water on his face and tries not to look in the mirror, doesn't want to know how red his eyes are or if he's crying or his nose is red and runny., how he must be unattractively blotchy red on his cheeks and neck._

 “ _Stiles?”_

  _Stiles jumps four feet in the air and clears his throat, spooked. Scott knocks gently on the door and repeats Stiles' name, says “are you okay? Heather is pretty worried, she's crying.”_

 “ _I'm coming down in a moment, tell her I'm fine.” Stiles replies, feeling even shittier because his daughter is in tears and he's closed himself in a bathroom because he can't face his husband anymore. Really, parent of the year doesn't even begin to cover it. Super._

 “ _Okay,” Scott murmurs and Stiles splashes his face one last time and then, before he can change his mind, turns the water off and opens the door. Scott isn't on the other side waiting for him to come out like Stiles expected, thought he'd have to explain himself or at least to put on a poker face, but Scott is sitting on the stairs, his back to Stiles, waiting for him like they have all the time in the world, like he's there for his best friend. Stiles knows Scott doesn't judge him or his decisions, knows that he doesn't really understand what is going on between Stiles and Derek; sure Stiles told him about the fight, told him Derek left, listened to him cry and cry and never said anything, he was just there for his best friend, but he also knows that he doesn't grasp what really happened and why all went to shit so fast so soon. Never tried to pry or anything. Stiles loves him for it, so he sits near Scott for a long moment and leans against him, tired and unhappy. He can hear Heather's broken cries and his heart breaks a little more every passing second, but he needs just a little moment, just a second so he can tell himself that he can go down and look at Derek even knowing that there's a huge wall between them. Still Scott doesn't say anything, just hugs him with an arm around his shoulders and tips his head against Stiles'._

  _When finally they go back down, Scott one step behind Stiles, Heather is gripping her Papa hard and crying like it's the end of the world. Stiles runs to her and opens his arms so Derek can pass him Heather. She doesn't even stop to take a breath, just turns in Derek's grip and launches herself into Stiles', keeps crying and crying, her little face hidden in her Daddy's neck, almost hysterical with it. For a moment Stiles is worried she's gonna choke and so he tries to soothe her, whispers that he's sorry he left like that, he's never gonna do that again, he promises he's okay and she should let him see her pretty face, but she just shakes her head and sniffs. Derek is looking at them with a wounded expression on his face and just like that Stiles feels insanely angry with him, only looking at those pale eyes makes him feel like he's wrong every time he does or says something, like he can't get it right, and Derek needs to stop. Just stop. Stop being everything that Stiles wants and can't have anymore. So he's angry, doesn't want to stay in that house that is both unfamiliar and threatening, not when Derek should be home with him and their daughter, can't stand the fact that the pack is looking at them like they're putting on a show and he's exhausted._

 “ _I should go,” Stiles says, looking down at the floor. He tightens his grip on Heather and turns around, looking for her shoes._

 “ _But...” Derek murmurs, but doesn't say anything else, cuts himself off._

 “ _You can come to the house whenever you want,” Stiles says, thinks_ you can come back whenever you want _, “Heather is tired, she needs to sleep.”_

  _Stiles bends down, grabs the shoes and then carries Heather to the front door, puts the sweater on her shoulders and nobody tries to stop him. He's angry and he knows the others know. Knows Derek can feel it, Heather can, too. Knows Derek could say something and Stiles would listen even if he's done with everything, because he always listens, would stop everything for Derek._

  _But Derek stays rooted to the spot, just keeps looking at them with his damned stupid face and big green eyes, doesn't say anything._

  _So Stiles nods to himself, feels the now familiar sting in his eyes, and leaves._

  _So this is how it ends, he thinks, not really with a bang._

 §§§

 

 Stiles never changed Derek's ringtone because he's so used to it. When he hears Duran Duran's Hungry Like The Wolf, he's always reaching for his phone before he even thinks about it. So, when he hears his phone go off, he runs out of the bathroom and answers it immediately.

 “Yo!”

 “Hey,” Derek says, sounds good, like he's rested and smiling. Stiles wants to sigh. “I wanted to tell you about the pack that's coming here next week.”

 “The Roberts?” He asks, then swears when he trips over Heather's toys she keeps leaving around literally everywhere.

 “Yeah, them, uhm,” Derek says, then sounds unsure and Stiles frowns, because he can interpret Derek silences like a fucking pro, after years and years spent with the guy. He's fluent in Derek's everything, from his eyebrows to his silences.

 “What?” Stiles prods, because if he doesn't push Derek they're gonna be on the phone for three hours. And Stiles would totally talk to Derek for three hours, but he's busy and needs to go grocery shopping before he has to go pick Heather up.

 “I need you to do me a favor.” Derek is speaking so softly Stiles can hardly hear him.

 “Okay, tell me,” he's pleasantly surprised, because Derek never asks for anything ever, so he's saying yes before he even knows what this is about.

 "Don't say yes before you know what it is,” Derek says like he can read his mind, “I need you to let me come back home for as long as the other pack is staying in Beacon Hills.”

 Stiles bites his bottom lip and then shrugs, shivers when he hears Derek say _home_ , like this house is still where he lives. “Okay,” he murmurs, he's not opposed to it. Derek can come back for a while, Heather will be more than happy to have Derek back. For as long as he gonna stay with them. It's gonna be kind of hard watching Derek first thing in the morning when he's soft and sleepy and cuddly, or when he's in pajamas or when he's reading to Heather silly stories before bed, but. Yeah, he can do it. Maybe.

 “No, wait, I need to stay with you. Like we're still married and live together and happy.” Derek clarifies.

 And that hurts, just like it's the first time one of them acknowledged the fact that their marriage pretty much ended, that they're not together and happy anymore. Still feels like a blow in the stomach. Stupidly, but that's what he feels every time he thinks about it.

 Stiles breathes out harshly and grits his teeth.

 “Why?”

 Derek sighs again, like he knew Stiles would've asked questions and of course Stiles is gonna ask questions, that's what he does best. It's a quality.

 “Just. Pretend you still like me.”

  _Pretend_. Stiles grips the phone hard, tries not to shake from anger, not to feel betrayed, takes a long breath, closes his eyes. He doesn't want to lash out. Doesn't want to fight. He's done with fights and everything else. Says, “Yeah, okay, whatever,” and hangs up before the first tears fall from his eyes.

 

 

 

 

 Derek comes back two days before the Roberts pack is supposed to arrive. The gray Toyota is already parked outside the house when Stiles comes home form his weekly visit to his dad, Heather is singing softly in the backseat, playing with her frog. She still doesn't know Derek is there, Stiles didn't really tell her much other than “Papa is going to spend some time with us, okay?” and she squealed happy and said yes, so Stiles is glad he can tell her again now that Papa is inside and waiting for them.

 “Baby,” he calls her, turns to look at her. She raises her eyes and stops mid-song, grins at him. “Look who's home,” nods at her to look at the house.

 She leans to the right a little so she can see past Stiles and Stiles knows she saw the car because she shouts loudly and starts crying when she can't escape from the evil seatbelts holding her tight.

 “Calm down!” Stiles almost shouts, grimacing when Heather only screams more. “Don't ruin the car, jesus!”

 He all but climbs through the car so he can reach her and free her, before she claws the seats and the upholstery. He's particularly fond of this car, seeing it's the only one he has. One of the perks of having a werewolf kid is that their claws make appearances often, leaving behind only broken dreams and crying parents who don't have enough money to replace the ruined backseats, or the couches in the living room, or the beds.

 The door on the other side of the car opens and Stiles looks up to see Derek smiling at Heather, “Be quiet for Daddy,” Derek says to her and she almost immediately starts sobbing, but really quietly like he asked her to. Stiles sighs and grumbles under his breath about fricking werewolves and their fricking powers. Derek smirks and leans inside so he can grab Heather from the seat and carry her inside the house. She totally climbs him like a koala. Stiles makes a face at the show and then whimpers when he spots the conditions of his car. Poor baby. He so doesn't have the money for this shit, not when Heather is going to claw right through the new upholstery in a day or two.

 Stiles sighs and grabs Heather's bag and shoes – she always takes her shoes off as soon as she sits her ass down literally anywhere – and closes the car behind him, follows the other two inside.

 Doesn't look at them when he enters because he knows they're playing together on the couch, giggling and growling.

 

 

 

 Derek sleeps with Heather like he always does when they're together and Stiles misses her the first night, he's used to her little body sleeping right next to him through the night. He wakes up three times worried she fell off the bed or she's sleepwalking like he used to do when he was little, but then, after a moment of blind panic, he remembers that she's sleeping with Derek in the other room and she's safe.

 He still can't sleep well thinking that Derek is only a few feet away, holding their daughter, and tries to burrow himself under the covers so he can avoid it.

 He ends up falling asleep though, and blinks awake only when he feels his mattress jostle slightly. He sniffs a little and turns to look at the source of the movement and finds Derek leaning over the bed with Heather in his arms. He smiles at Stiles a little and Stiles feels his heart sleepily stop beating, the soft light creeping in through the open door behind Derek making him look like an angel with his bedhead and the pillow creases on his cheek.

 “I'm going out for a run,” Derek whispers and Stiles knows that, he lived with him for years, knows the guy is a freak. It's 6 am and it's still chilly out, but Derek doesn't care, never has, he says it helps him focus.

 Stiles yawns and nods, rolls over so he can hug Heather to his chest and she clutches him right back. Derek looks at them for a long moment, before he raises a hand to caress her hair. Stiles closes his eyes.

 “Be careful,” he murmurs, old habits die hard and he doesn't know how he doesn't say “ _I love you, come back soon,_ ” like he always did before, but fortunately he bites his tongue and pretends he didn't even think about it.

 “Always, go back to sleep,” Derek says and Stiles does.

§§§

  _Stiles wakes up warm and rested. His bladder is killing him, but he's too comfortable to do anything about it. He smiles to himself when he feels Derek tighten his grip around his middle and make growly noises against the back of his neck. His bed is literally too small for both of them, but it's also kind of perfect, because they are so close Stiles is sure there's nothing between them. Apart from clothes._

  _He's happy and giddy because finally he's with Derek, they talked and there were manly love confessions and then they made out for hours and Stiles maybe creamed his pants. But. What matters is that Derek totally said he wants Stiles and Stiles is going to exploit that in so many ways, so many times. Like now, for example._

  _No time like the present._

  _So he tries not to laugh and pushes his ass back against Derek's crotch, making a soft noise when he finds him hard. If he doesn't get that inside of him in the next twenty minutes he's going to die._

  _Derek hums and bucks his hips against Stiles, his right hand splayed over Stiles' stomach clenches a little and then opens again, huge on Stiles' skin._

 “ _Derek,” Stiles murmurs, turning his head back so he can see him, dark lashes and pretty face and Stiles' heart flutters in his chest. Fuck, Derek is so beautiful, looks like a statue even when he's sleeping._

  _Derek slowly blinks up at him, pale eyes glassy and unfocused and Stiles can't help but smile at him. Derek smiles back._

“ _Morning,” his voice is thick and rough and Stiles feels his toes curl when he hears it, wants to find out if it changes when Derek is having an orgasm._

“ _Hi,” Stiles replies, rolls his hips again against the hard line of Derek's dick, makes him gasp and grip him. “We should fuck.”_

“ _Oh, fuck,” Derek curses and closes his eyes, like even the idea of fucking Stiles is too much and Stiles is positively gleeful, wants to do it so much so many times they're gonna be filthy by the time they're done._

“ _Yes, you should fuck me now,” Stiles repeats, “I waited so long for this, you don't even know.”_

_Derek growls and bites Stiles' neck, making him squirm and moan and open his legs for Derek's hand inside his underwear._

“ _I hope you know- Fuck!” Stiles gasps when Derek closes a hand around his dick, “that I expect to wake up like this everyday, jesus, take off your pants oh my god, I want to have sex first thing in the morning- Fuck yes, I wanna touch you, come back here,” he keeps babbling, turns on his back so he can see Derek undressing, see his dick, touch him everywhere. “I knew you were gonna be absurd, look at you, I can't believe you,” says when Derek crawls back on the bed and opens Stiles' legs with both hands on the back of his thighs, settles between them with a smirk and red cheeks, deadly predator and all that._

 “ _You never shut up,” Derek growls, leaning in to kiss Stiles deep and dirty._

 “ _You shut up and put your dick in me,” Stiles remarks._

§§§

 Having Derek back is both the most natural thing in the world and the most hurtful thing ever. It's like being thrown back in time, to when they were really happy and together, but there's always a bitter aftertaste to every kind word and lingering touch.

 Stiles knows they're putting on a show for the Roberts pack, because Tanya keeps watching them like a hawk, like she needs to find a weak spot so she can sink her teeth into it and tear their pack apart. Scott keeps smiling and generally being awesome, Derek is calm and collected and the picture of respectful beta and and perfect host and Tanya is always looking at him. Stiles feels green with jealousy. She talks to Derek in soft tones and with smirks painted in red, she's absolutely beautiful and terrifying, tall with curly red hair, eyes like ice, a big presence. She knows what she wants and how to take it. She could probably just grab Derek and take him away with her.

 Stiles keeps watching her and feels bile rise in his throat; his hands itch and he's _so angry_. He's not even pretending he's pissed off, he doesn't want anybody looking at Derek like he's a prize, like he's not a person with feelings and ideas and a family. Derek stays with him as much as he can, touches him to let him know that he's there, to make Stiles smell like him, to reassure him and, at the end of the day, Stiles is shaking with barely controlled rage and so he runs to the security of the kitchen. He needed to escape the oppressive atmosphere outside, the lingering glances and touches, can't stand feeling shaky and unbalanced in his own home, can't help but feeling threatened even in the calm of his kitchen.

 He's angrily putting away leftovers of the huge barbeque they had to celebrate the arrival of the new pack, before he loses patience and ends up starting a war between two new allies. It's the last thing everyone needs.

He's shoving steak after steak in a plastic box, when he hears Tanya laugh loudly and he looks up. He can see Tanya and Derek and Scott from the window above the sink, and they're talking, glasses in hand and smiles on their faces. Scott is talking, probably telling a story that needs a lot of grand gestures, and Derek is smiling at him, stance relaxed and so fucking perfect, with windswept hair and bright eyes. But Stiles feels his blood go cold when he spots Tanya's arm linked through one of Derek's, like they're a cute couple, the way she's leaning into him and he's not even bothered by it.

 It's all a farce between him and Stiles, and Stiles knows it, but seeing it. Seeing it with his own eyes. It's just too much, didn't even think about Derek starting a new life without him or Heather before. Sure, like, he knew Derek isn't in love with him anymore, theoretically speaking, but. It's still a slap in the face being sure that Derek is going to find someone else and be happy with them while Stiles is still pining for him, will probably always be in love with Derek even when he's old and wrinkly.

 His traitorous eyes start stinging and it's getting real old real soon, he shakes his head so he can regain composure and doesn't always starts crying every two seconds like he did when he was pregnant. He's not hormonal, he's a grown up man. He just sniffs and drops his gaze back to his task, keeps putting food away so he can use it tomorrow for lunch. Throws used paper plates away and smiles wetly when Kira joins him after a while; if she sense anything she doesn't call him on it and he's forever grateful he has such great friends. She pushes her forehead against his shoulder for a short moment, ever the fox, and he kisses her hair, thanks her without words.

 After that, he doesn't raise his eyes even if he can feel Derek's gaze heavy on him through the window.

 The Roberts pack leaves for the night with promises to come back the following day, all laughing and happy and generally good allies, and Stiles is pretty sure the deal went off fine, even if he spent the day holed up inside being a terrible host. He waves them goodbye and avoids looking at Derek now that they're alone with their own pack, their friends. He knows Derek is confused but Stiles is just super tired and he still needs to go pick up Heather from his Dad's house, so he kisses Allison and Kira on the cheek and goes find the Jeep's keys.

 But even before he can sweep out undetected, Derek stops him by dramatically cutting Stiles' exit with his huge body. Stiles hates him for his big shoulders and menacing pose.

 “Derek, move,” he snaps, but Derek just frowns harder and crosses his arms.

 “What the hell, Stiles?” Derek says and Stiles sighs, rolls his eyes, pissed. Doesn't have time for this shit.

 “Go away, I need to go pick up Heather.”

 “You can go in a moment, she's not gonna run away. What the hell happened today, Stiles?” Derek asks again, the same tone he always uses with him, like he's exasperated and fond. Stiles can't stand it.

 “Nothing happened, everything went swimmingly fine!” he says, faux cheerful. He really doesn't need this right now. He just wants his baby and then go to bed. Possibly for the next twenty five years. Obviously Derek didn't get the memo because he drops his arms and takes a step towards Stiles, like he's going to scare him or something. That stopped working the same time Stiles found out he had a boner for the crazy creepy dude, so, yeah.

 “You spent the day inside and said precisely two words to the Roberts. You know the others had to tell the pack you were just shy, because they kept asking why you were all alone and not talking to anybody.”

 Stiles rolls his eyes, seriously done with this.

“From where I was standing, it seemed like you didn't have any problem talking to them,” says bitterly, teeth gritted.

“What the fuck does that mean, you know we worked hard to make them our allies.” Derek responds, voice hard and eyes stony, “everything almost went to shit because you didn't want to make small talk? Since when.”

 “If you want to make small talk with beautiful people, you can, who's stopping you? Not me,” he snarks, getting all up in Derek's space, angry and shaky, hot in his cheeks.

  
“What. The. Fuck.” Derek swears, like he's positively dumbfounded that Stiles even thinks that, like he didn't spend the entire day smiling and touching another woman right in front of him.

 “I saw you and Tanya, you make a cute couple. I'm sure your kids will be stunning.” Stiles goes on, he's on a roll, can't seem to stop now that he started. His eyes burn and his chest hurts, but he just can't stop. Derek is looking at him with big eyes, lips parted. Stiles hates him.

 “What the fuck, Stiles!” he almost shouts, frantic and so not his usual self, this is the Derek Stiles saw only when they were really fighting before everything went to shit, the Derek that is almost too human to be true. “What are you even saying, this doesn't make any sense, you don't make any sense. I can't even-” he cuts himself off, when Stiles pushes him hard, futilely because Derek is like a wall made of stone, unbreakable and hard and Stiles doesn't care, he's mad, he's pissed and he's hurt, his chest constricts when he pictures Derek with Tanya, their imaginary babies in the place that is Heather's, shouldn't exist anywhere, even in fantasies. He's so hurt, that he can't think about it without feeling sick, throat burning with phantom bile.

 “I know you don't love me anymore but what the hell, Derek, in front of me?” he cries, hits Derek's chest with weak fists, “you know how I felt seeing you with her, you must know, I'm sure you can still smell it on me, I was so so angry, I'm fucking pissed off at you, at her.”

 Derek grabs his wrists, makes him stop, his grip almost vicious. Stiles doesn't care. “I don't love you?” Derek shouts, really shouts, angry like Stiles rarely saw him, never directed at him; it's the first time the focus of Derek's anger is on him, makes him almost want to cower. He grimaces and tries to free himself from Derek's hands, but he can't. He's gonna have bruises and they're gonna hurt for days. “You told me to go away, told me you wanted to take a break, then decided we were done. You called the shots, you shut me out, you, Stiles!”

 Stiles is frozen on the spot, is looking at Derek shocked and shaken, not even breathing and Derek is shouting and his eyes are wet and he looks out of his mind, frantic, angry, scared, and Stiles wants to sob and curl up in a ball, doesn't want to look at Derek anymore, doesn't want to talk or listen or feel.

 “You were never here, Der.” Stiles murmurs, doesn't have the strength to go on, he's deflating slowly, hanging limply from Derek's grip. “I saw you more often during our break up than during our marriage, you started dealing with other packs when Heather was one year old. Do the math.”

 Derek doesn't say anything for a long moment, takes a deep breath and lets it out, slowly frees Stiles' wrists, who just leans against the wall on his right and tips his head back, eyes closed. They never got to it, to actually really discuss what was wrong between them, everything just ended, but now Stiles isn't sure it's better this way.

 “You never said...” Derek whispers and just like that, bam, Stiles is surging up with renovated strength, a hot fire in his belly, still so angry.

 “I never said?!” screams, voice rough and ugly, “I told you so many times that I was unhappy, that I wanted you back, that Heather was making herself sick all the time. Don't you dare put this on me, don't you fucking dare,” swats a finger at him, could probably hit him in the face if he didn't know from experience that Derek's face is like fucking marble.

 “If you asked me to choose between you and my work, I would have chosen you! Always you! My family is more important that anything! I just thought that you were done with me, that you didn't want me anymore, that. I don't know. I know you loved me, but like a different kind of love. We had Heather and things changed, I loved you, I love you, but you were so distant. That's why I was always finding new trips to go on.”

 “I was distant?” Stiles asks, because, what? Never in a million years he would describe himself as distant, he was so happy when Heather was born, he wanted to spend every single second with her and Derek.

 “Don't you remember? I was so scared to touch you, I just stopped. I thought that maybe you could still be with me even if you didn't want to actually be with me, didn't want to have sex or just, you know, I love you, I would've wanted you no matter what.”

 “You weren't ever home, Derek, what the fuck, I was alone. Heather was only one when you left the first time and, okay, it was fine for the first year, you left only twice and we spent a lot of time together, but after that? It was like being married to a ghost, I didn't want to have sex when I was angry with you. Then we started fighting. I never stopped loving you, you idiot. Never. Actually, I left you because I couldn't stand being with you without actually _being_ with you. I was so mad, all the time, I was so scared I'd find out you were tired of me and that was why you always found some new project. I'm still angry, but mostly? Mostly I'm just exhausted.”

 Derek is looking at him with glassy green eyes, wounded expression on his beautiful face and Stiles cries silently, just tears streaming down his face. He isn't even sure what they resolved with this awful talk, but yelps when Derek surges up and takes his face in his huge hands.

 “I'm sorry,” Derek whispers, looking right into Stiles' eyes, sincere as fuck, like only him can be, “I'm so sorry,” says again, leaning his forehead against Stiles', his breath warm on Stiles' lips, so much that Stiles can't help but shiver, overwhelmed. “I'll always choose you, Stiles. Always.”

 Stiles sobs and grips him by the hair, angry and relieved, “Fucking asshole,” growls into his mouth, Derek whines and crowds him against the wall, lets Stiles pull his hair hard and pant into his neck. He's going into overdrive, doesn't know how to deal with all the feelings running through him, doesn't know if he feels elated or aggravated, because Derek hurt him so much, but he's the only one he ever loved, he's _Derek_. “Derek,” he says, again and again, when Derek slips between his open thighs, when he pushes his hips against Stiles', when he says “yeah, Stiles, _Stiles_ ,” like a mantra over and over again.

 They reach the bedroom in a daze, Stiles' legs tight around Derek's waist, heated kisses and hard words between them. It's like Stiles can't help but being rough, needs to leave marks over Derek's skin with his nails and teeth, marks that fade after a few minutes and make him want to bite again and again. Derek moans and lets him, throws his shirt away and bares his neck, thrusts against Stiles when he closes his mouth against the skin of his throat. Derek is so hot, so heavy above him, it's like a weight he missed like a piece of himself, like somebody cut a vital part from him. Eight months seem like they never happened and like a huge reminder at same time; it's so easy letting Derek strip him of his clothes and open his legs to situate between, letting him suck Stiles' dick down his throat and making him moan, his body used to all the things Derek is doing to him. But Stiles feels stripped bare, like his soul is on display, like Derek is looking at all of him, like never before, like he's committing to this moment, now. Nothing changed between them, they're always good at making the other moan and shiver, Stiles opens up greedily for Derek's fingers, his tongue, shakes apart with his face in a pillow and three of Derek's fingers inside him.

 “Shit,” he cries out when Derek kisses the back of his neck and pushes inside with his dick, still huge (almost too big after all this time) and hot and everything that Stiles missed from sex with Derek, missed the way Derek stops for a moment after he bottoms out so Stiles can get used to his girth; he missed his tender touches along his sides, feather fingers over his hips and ribs; the way his voice changes and tunes to Stiles' body, to his movements and needs.

 “Move, move, fuck,” Stiles gasps and Derek complies, shallow thrusts that make Stiles pant and move his hips back, trying to get him to move move move, more more. “Fuck me, come on!” cries out and that makes Derek growl and tighten his grip on him, one hand around Stiles' throat like a promise, the other in a fist on the mattress. He speeds up, fucks Stiles hard and deep, makes him curl his toes in pleasure and shout every time he hits his prostate. It's hard and fast and rough, exactly what Stiles wants and needs, needs to feel Derek in every way, wants to feel the reminder of their night even tomorrow, feel the phantom of Derek's touch and dick in him every step he takes.

 He gasps when Derek closes a hand around him, strokes his cock in time with his thrusts, maddeningly good. Stiles can feel the warmth of his orgasm build up from his cock, his belly, knows he's close close, and he turns his head to kiss Derek dirty and fast, makes him open up and take it. He comes with Derek's tongue in his mouth and he feels lightheaded with it, clenches on Derek's cock and comes for so long he feels empty after. Derek is still inside of him, breathing heavily and he's caressing Stiles stomach through the aftershocks.

 “Good?” Derek asks, tender and soft and Stiles nods, grins and pushes back with his ass so he can hear Derek hiss.

 “Come on,” Stiles says, grips Derek's hair in his hand, “come inside me, missed it so much,” whispers into his mouth. Derek trembles inside him, behind him, moans breathily and thrusts deep and hard inside Stiles, “fuck yes,” Stiles says and watches Derek's face, wants to see him when he comes, the way his eyes scrunch up and his pretty mouth drops open on a throaty moan. The feeling of Derek's come inside him is familiar and Stiles whimpers, moves his ass around Derek's dick so he can have it all, doesn't want to lose a drop of it, needs it. He wants everything Derek can give him.

 They kiss and kiss, Derek still inside of him and Stiles squished under Derek. It's too hot and sweaty and Stiles is literally lying in a puddle of his own come, but he doesn't really care for now. He just wants to stay there with Derek and don't think about anything.

 “I love you,” Derek says and Stiles doesn't cry.

§§§

 “ _So, I have great news,” Stiles exclaims when Derek comes home with his arms full of Chinese take away. He whoops when he sees the boxes and claps his hands. Derek rolls his eyes and goes to grab two plates because he's a freak while Stiles stays comfortably where he is on the couch. He has great news, he deserves this place._

 “ _What news?” Derek asks, when he gets back from the kitchen with both food and cutlery. Stiles loves him so much. The smell of the food is amazing._

 “ _You should put everything down and sit right here,” he says, patting the couch invitingly. Derek raises an eyebrow but complies, good boy that he is, and Stiles opens his mouth to tell him everything when his traitorous stomach decides is time to visit the bathroom and puke everything up. He scrambles up and runs until he's leaning over the toilet, Derek sighing behind him._

 “ _Didn't you go to the doctor?” Derek says, rubbing a comforting hand over his back. “This is worrying, you know? It's not just a virus.”_

  _Stiles breathes heavily and nods. “it's not. I went to the doctor. I have great news.”_

_“What?” Derek asks, confused._

_“I'm pregnant.” Stiles announces. “Tadà!”_

 §§§

 Derek and Stiles spend the next three months joined at the hip, like they used to when they first got together. Scott cheers, Kira smiles tenderly at them and says that she's more than happy to babysit Heather whenever they want and Isaac pretends to gag and says they smell like a nightmare. Allison laughs and congratulates them, but says that if they ever try to do something like that she's going to kill both of them and take Heather home with her, raise her as her own. Stiles and Derek don't doubt it even for a moment she will actually do it.

 Life is finally good. Heather is happy. They are happy. Stiles and Derek fuck like rabbits, like it's never enough and, in some way, it never is. They spent too much time apart and they want to get it back, want to be a normal family again. They can have picnics in the park, can spend long hours talking and looking at their daughter being carefree and young, kiss and smile and drink coffee when it's still dark outside and the sun is just only peeking out from behind the horizon.

 Derek says is never gonna leave again and Stiles believes him.

 

Four months later, Stiles leaves Derek a post it note on the fridge with a cartoon-ish wolf on it. He's sitting calmly at the table, reading the paper and waiting for Derek to come back home from his morning jog.

 “Hey,” Derek calls when he gets back, smiles at Stiles and leans in to kiss him softly. He frowns a little when he sniffs him and Stiles wants to laughs in his face, but stops himself.

 “Uhm,” says Derek, but turns to the fridge and goes to grab a drink, when Stiles feels and hears him freeze behind him.

 “Stiles?”

 “Yeah?” Stiles replies, cool as fuck, he got this. Tries not to snigger, but can't help but grin.

 “I... Is this what I think it is?” Derek mumbles, and Stiles turns to look at him, the post it note clutched in his fingers. The words _I have great news!!!_ , written on it.

 “Yup,” nods, keeps drinking his OJ, winks at him. “I'm pregnant.”

 Derek nods to himself one, two, three times and Stiles laughs softly at him because Derek looks pretty shocked. Then he puts the post it on the fridge and.

 Sits down on the floor.

 Stiles spits his juice everywhere at the scene before him and laughs so hard he cries. Then goes to hug his husband and kisses the shock out of him. All in all, it went well, Stiles thinks. Better than the first time when Derek pretty much had a meltdown and Stiles thought he broke him. This time he only marginally broke him.

 “I love you so much,” Stiles tells him and Derek looks at him in wonder, grips his face in his hands and Stiles flushes prettily, smiles.

 “Fuck,” Derek whispers, then kisses him hard and deep, making Stiles squeal happily, “so much, so much,” Derek says.

 

(Heather doesn't know what that new smell is, but she says it smells good. She's happy she's going to have a little sister or little brother, as long as they don't touch her frogs. Stiles promises no, madame! The Sheriff gets all teary eyed and Stiles hugs and claps him on the back, all proud and shit. The others pretend not to be happy for them, say they don't want to deal with pregnant Stiles ever again, but Stiles swears Kira and Scott get all emo over the fact that there's going to be another little one in their pack, and Isaac and Allison and Lydia start whispering to each other about who knows what and Stiles is pretty happy about everything. Especially when Derek puts his arms around him and touches his flat belly under his clothes and whispers dumb cute things in his ear.)

 

§§§

 

THE END

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Tanya totally left Derek and Stiles alone after the first day bc she could smell them from three states over. Stiles wasn't smirking the entire time the Roberts pack stayed with them, no. 
> 
> Ahh, also, I spent most of the time trying to think of a new name for Heather but I just really liked it and so I left it. I think Stiles would've liked it, too.


End file.
